


Dear Severus,

by threnodyjones



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, cookie - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 22:50:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threnodyjones/pseuds/threnodyjones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus is finally learns the truth.  A cookie from a picture challenge in the Mirror of Maybe 'verse by Midnight Blue.  Almost certainly will not make sense if you aren't familiar with the parent story, since it is rather <em>in media res</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Severus,

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mirror of Maybe](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/6248) by Midnight Blue. 



> This is meant to take place after the out of sequence chapter, "Hard Truths". Originally written December 30, 2004.

"You will have to forgive me, Professor."

Severus eyed the room critically, unbending from his position over the table. The pensieve had vanished and Ash was sitting across from him in the chair he was so fond of, rubbing his calloused right thumb.

"You addressed me by my given name in your letter."

Ash shrugged. "A presumption I didn't stop from taking. I apologize."

"I see no reason. When did you develop nervous habits?" he asked, nodding at Ash's hands. Ash looked at his hand curiously. The rubbing continued. Ash turned his regard back to Severus.

"I'm not him, you realize.You're in the pensieve. I will only be able to respond to you within a parameter set when he created this," Ash said, waving his left hand around the room.

"Such a thing is possible?" Fascinating.

"It's an old Rusalka form of magic."

Severus took the chair across from the table. "You were saying?" he asked, nodding once more to Ash's hand.

"I would assume he was nervous when he filled the pensieve; this," Ash waved the hand still worrying the callous, "would be an expression of that nervousness. Subconscious emotions or thoughts are far more likely to manifest in this environment."

"And why the nervousness?"

Ash stood, walking the room, taking his time to examine the walls. He stopped by the door. "The contents, his actions, your reaction, I don't know. I am to tell you that you will not be able to leave until you have viewed the entire contents of the pensieve. Good day, Professor."

Severus leapt towards Ash, not in time to catch him as he opened the door and closed it in his face. Severus slammed his fist upon the door. "War Mage!"

Pulling himself together he took a deep breath and righted his vestments before trying the door for himself.

To his mild surprise it opened.

As it slammed shut behind him, pushing him a start forward, in fact, he realized he wasn't in the dungeons of Hogwarts anymore.

A house. A home. A baby's room, even. A flash of green, and terrified pleading. He turned in time to see a dark figure stride into the room, caught a sense of auburn, a smell of comfort and then more green before darkness.

The Dursley's, all dark cupboards and boxed ears. He could hear celebrating in another room, and pictures ladening the walls showed the fat whale these muggles called a son growing ever larger as time passed.

He walked into the kitchen and entered the Great Hall at Hogwarts, this summer past just in time to see the youngest Weasley pushing Potter in front of the mirror. He steeled himself for the chaos to follow when...

Nothing happened.

Severus heard Potter whisper a question to Granger asking what was supposed to happen and then the next student took their place in front of the mirror as Weasley and Granger dragged Harry away. The next student looked and...

Nothing happened. Again. The mirror remained blank for each student who tried it for the rest of the evening. When he turned to look at Potter he found himself back at Privet Drive, loitering on the pavement as Potter, looking older than he should, had a conversation with two wearing War Mage insignia. Potter agreeing to go with them, eager even. It didn't look like he'd been let into the house.

Something was off, time was wrong, but rather than waste time contemplating it he watched Potter begin his Mage training.

Severus curled his lips in distaste when Potter and Silver became lovers, and smirked in approval when Potter and Ell'evisor were forced to become training partners. He came to appreciate Ly'haniir's style of pedagogy despite being unable to reference the Elvish words he spoke.

Then Potter's study with the Elves came to an end, and he moved to the dark subjacent regions of the Dwarves where Severus watched him develop an affinity for Dwarven magic as he learned to speak the language of stone and rock. At this Potter had never concentrated so fiercely, and soon Severus began to see the changes affected in his personality: aversion to living creatures, diminished appetite, unwillingness to go above ground, laconic speech patterns - indeed the only talking Potter seemed to do was to the damned rocks and stones, talking and petting them like a kneazle until they rippled and only then would Potter smile anymore.

Finally the Dwarves had enough and Potter was ejected from their midst - he had learned what they had to teach him and it was time to remember he was a human, so be gone! So Potter had gone back to the Elves, but not before securing a pebble from his room.

His mutt godfather had been waiting for him when he returned to Ly'haniir, and training had taken a small reprieve. Potter apparently learned not to talk to rocks so much and he found distraction in Silver once more.

Nonetheless, it was Potter the Circle looked to first when Gringott's was attacked. Devastatingly diabolical, that. Genius in its evil. But Potter's love of stone meant that he was the one thrust headlong into the world of Goblin magic; Severus watched him absorb a year's worth of training in two weeks before being sent across the globe for a month to perform spells which left him incoherent and wasted.

He and Potter were now set the tasking of working together at times for the Order. Specific details were glossed over, leaving the impression of bitterness, spite and a good helping of intense dislike intermingled with Potter's asinine attitude of invincibility.

And then... And then war had come to Hogwarts itself and Albus fell in defense of the school he'd cherished for so long; dear God, Albus had fallen. Potter was back at Hogwarts, and with his mage teacher and three others a ritual was performed on the soot-strewn Quidditch pitch. No details were clear, only the feelings of importance and haste and the knowledge that Potter was now considered a full War Mage with the name of Ash.

Finally two moments became clear: Potter and Snape had tracked down a Death Eater, a Death Eater with information they desperately needed or wanted. Severus recognized the movements he made right before casting when suddenly Potter cast Cruciatus - a very effective one at that - until the man screamed out what they wanted.

Potter's reaction was one thing - the sadness, regret, permeated the pensieve, but Snape's reaction... Severus rather felt it mirrored what he too was feeling.

After that the bitterness eased, the spite abated and then the second moment came into focus.A meeting, the end of a meeting, a bottle of Dreamless Sleep, (Severus made note then to make a great deal of the stuff, really it was only prudent, with war on the horizon, and it did last,) surprise from McDholl, and Snape's irritated voice ringing through the pensieve, nigh shouting: "Of course I did. I said I would, didn't I?"

It surely had some significance, not that Severus grasped it, but the feelings surrounding him changed, mutating to a trust, a respect, and fondness even, were Severus to be a judge.

After that, impressions of companionship, a knowledge that Potter was spending increasing amounts of time in the dungeons when he was at Hogwarts, a growing appreciation for sarcasm and dark humor with the knowledge of a perfect source, a camaraderie with one acquainted with the dark side of light...

Then that night. _Again_. Of course, that would be how Ash knew, why he was so angry with himself, and so sure that they could let themselves repair from the encounter before going to Albus. He'd already lived it. Lived the pain, the horror, the shear desperate clawing to cling onto sanity. Young, too young, and then it was over, both of them embarrassed, but each grateful that they still knew what embarrassment was.

And once Harry's embarrassment had been conquered, his long campaign to make Severus forget his. Really only a Gryffindor.

The death of Weasley's daughter, the fight with Draco - Draco's ultimate redemption, Potter's return to Hogwarts, hardly the hero triumphant, wounded and sick of heart. And finally Snape dragging Harry to his quarters, kissing Harry, anything to snap him out of the malaise he was setting into. Harry crying as Snape made love to him, grasping so tightly he was afraid Snape - Severus - would stop.

Love. Devotion. Need. Desire. Awareness of long nights with dying candles filled with talk or confessions or passion. It was passion. All of it was passion, be it of a physical nature or not. Absolute trust. Laughter. The scent of leather and the feel of knives and potion bottles being deftly stripped from both their bodies.

Robert Thomas. A muggle - _the_ muggle - who'd managed to perform magic. The rescue from Voldemort's claws, hope against hope that it wasn't already too late. Lucius' knowledge of Severus' betrayal.

Harry shouting, begging as he grasped onto Severus' arm desperately trying anything and everything he could to break the mark, he and others. Severus' screams indelibly imprinted on Harry's soul as Voldemort turned Severus' mark against him, turning him to ash, burning him from the inside out - slowly and not slowly at all.

Harry's screams as Severus disintegrated in his grasp, Black pulling him backwards, Lupin helping, both trying to subdue Harry and succeeding only when Ronald Weasley joined the fray with a vial of Living Death.

After that came Voldemort's death, which pleased Severus to no end, except for the desolation of presentation in the pensieve. If the time before with Severus had been passion, this was anti-passion with a knowledge that Voldemort must die.

And then there was Hogwarts. Harry's home and soon closest confidant as he took up talking to rocks again. He wasn't begrudged this by Black or Weasley or Granger - Thomas now - though each continued to draw him back to human contact when they could.

Harry was sleeping sometime after this, when something awoke him, startling him out of dreams of the dead - or did it? He'd grabbed his wand to investigate - or had he? when he was suddenly forcibly located to the Great Hall, surrounded by people who had died years ago. And Hermione. Shouting his name _in public_.

And Albus - Severus felt any number of emotions swirl around him when Albus spoke and then...

And then Harry whirled around to face Professor Snape when he'd started to call out Potter's penalty in scathing tones and Severus was nearly knocked out by the emotions swimming around the pensieve. The despair, the longing - and he heard Harry say his name again that way, only this time he understood what was behind it.

Quickly now, the decision to make Harry Potter disappear, the ride with Dursley, the airport, Gringott's, the tattoos, Harry's desire to re-establish as much of his life as he could - everything coming so fast that Severus could barely make sense of it all. Really, nothing like rushing the end of a story, Potter. Honestly. But he did capture Harry's desire to "reacquire" "Sev'".

Severus found himself staring at the pensieve, watching the play of individual silver strands form the shimmering liquid whole. Ash's letter lay where Severus had placed it, the parchment curling in on itself. So much to digest; Severus took to the chair and reread the letter once more. And then once more.

"Severus!" Albus' green-hued head taunted him from his fireplace.

"Headmaster?" Severus cleared his throat lightly.

"If you can, your presence could be used in the infirmary, as quickly as possible."

He made his way there immediately, entering into a scene of controlled chaos. Poppy and her orderlies flitted forwards and back, centering their attentions on a bloodied mass of white sheets.

A very familiar mass...

"Severus, Professor Ash tells me that you may recognize this poor man. Perhaps even that you may be able to tell us more about his circumstances."

"Indeed. This is the muggle I told you about."

"This is Mr. Thomas?" Dumbledore looked suitably surprised by this revelation. "If you will excuse me for a moment, I find I must speak with a few others."

Severus nodded his agreement, and eventually moved to watch the proceedings from a closer angle.

"Professor."

Severus looked up, seeing Ash watch Poppy save Robert Thomas's life, noting his concern. His eyes showed harsh lines of fatigue, and his right arm was hanging in a manner which suggested an injury of some sort. Severus looked back towards the Thomas boy.

"You addressed me by my given name in your letter."

There was a rustle of stillness from Ash's direction. "I shouldn't have taken the presumption. I apologize."

Severus let the moment stretch, coming to a decision.

"I see no reason."

He heard Ash exhale sharply, and turning found himself stared at with the most hopeful gaze anyone had ever dared give him. Severus looked away.

"You went after Thomas yourself?"

Ash shook his head. "Sirius and Remus found him. We went in together. You should talk to Albus about what you're going to tell Voldemort. Don't raise that eyebrow at me. Something along the lines of seeing him before Dumbledore had him whisked away, and how he isn't talking about it with anyone or nobody knows anything about it. He needs to be told something; he'll know the Order was behind this."

"The Order _wasn't_ behind it, however."

Ash was silent, watching Poppy cast spell after spell on her patient as he obviously struggled with something.

"I couldn't let you be involved," he whispered.

"Kindly discuss such things with me next time."

Ash nodded his agreement - his promise. "I will."

Severus suppressed a sigh. This would take some work, and yet he'd already mentally committed to his course. "It will take some time before I can refer to you as anything other than 'Ash'."

"I don't care." Said quickly, on half a breath. Yes, perhaps he didn't care. All very well, then.

"In that case, I believe we have a meeting with the Headmaster."He turned and began walking, Ash catching up with him quickly as they made their way towards Albus.


End file.
